Obliviate
by JinxSaw
Summary: "I love you, Hermione."  "I love you too, Draco..."  "Obliviate."  First Dramione. Rated T for safety.
1. Prologue: Progress

**Obliviate**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used in this fanfiction. J. is the sole owner of all.**

**A/N: Never written anything for this paring before, so I hope it turns out alright. I don't even like Dramione much, but this has been plaguing me for weeks. Please enjoy, and don't forget to review :)**

Prologue: Progress

It was never something he meant to do, he kept telling himself. Never something he would've done in his right mind, but, of course, he hadn't been in his right mind, had he? It was something he could get killed for... Something his family could get killed for...

Draco Malfoy never meant to fall in love with Hermione Granger.

He'd been drinking. Again. He knew who to blame, that daft old lady who'd kept sherry bottles in the room of requirement. He'd thought they were bottles of pumpkin juice at first, and soon realised his mistake. It wasn't one he regretted, however, as he continued to drink the stuff.

He taught himself the charm to transfigure water into rum, and, for a time frame of about two months, was either drunk or hungover for the whole time.

He was, of course, drunk when he fell in love with Hermione.

It was in Potions on a friday. He knew that, because the next day was Saturday, a month before it happened.

He couldn't stop staring at her hair, hair that had become significantly less bushy. He wanted to run his hands through it so badly. His mind wandered into a daydream... Her hair felt soft under his hand, he could almost feel it...

"Can I help you?" she asked in an irritated tone. Draco snapped out his daze.

"Help me? Why would I want help from you, you..." he tried to say it, honestly. But the word wouldn't come. Hermione glared at him, before turning to correct something Weasley had done wrong.

Hermione was mentally reeling. He hadn't insulted her? My, this was progress indeed. Maybe there was hope that he would come around.

Or maybe pigs would fly.

She knew that Draco Malfoy, pureblood Draco Malfoy, could never like her, Hermione Granger, mudblood Hermione Granger.

But how she wished...


	2. Chapter 1: Conversation

Chapter One: Conversation

"Malfoy?" came a voice from down the corridor. Draco was entirely ready to ignore it, as it was Saturday, and he was planning on working on the cabinet and getting smashed again. But the voice came from Weasley, a friend of Hermione's, so he turned.

"What do you want, Weasel?" he asked, venomously.

Ron seemed unabashed by the tone of voice. In fact, he seemed to become tougher.

"Just stay away from Hermione, alright? Leave her alone." He quickly turned and hurried away. Draco carried on to the room, fully intending to keep away from her anyway.

He missed the Quidditch match, but he heard the outcome, and was shocked that Weasel had done so well. He was in a foul temper, sitting under a desk in a disused classroom, when Hermione came bursting in, crying, a solitary bird following her.

"Want to talk about it?" asked Draco, staying hidden under the table. Hermione, her back pressed against the closed door, stiffened.

"Who's there?" she asked, quickly wiping her eyes and looking around the room. Draco almost cursed for his stupidity.

"Never mind," he said. "I'm a friend, I can help." Hermione took a deep breath, and poured out her story. Each word she said about feeling hurt by what Ron had done stuck a dagger through his chest. She didn't have to feel this way, the Weasel didn't know how lucky he was that this beautiful witch wanted him. He was just throwing it back in her face. He wouldn't be so stupid.

"But the thing is, I shouldn't be upset. I like Ron, sure, but I don't love him... It's just a passing crush... I love someone else..."

Draco hardy dared hope. It seemed it could be too much.

"Who?" he asked, despite himself.

Hermione paused, then let out a shaky laugh. "I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. I don't know who you are, I don't know if I can trust you..."

"You can trust me, Hermione," he said, his heart skipping a beat as he spoke her name. He heard footsteps.

Hermione began walking towards the corner of the room the voice was coming from. "I shouldn't like him, that's the thing... He's a pureblood... I'm just a muggle born, a mudblood, he called me. That's what I'll always be to him. You can probably guess from that."

Still Draco didn't dare to hope. Many purebloods had referred to Hermione as a mudblood.

"But I think I trust you enough to tell you." Her voice was closer now, and he could see her feet next to the desk he was under. He could also see her legs, and his breath hitched in his throat.

"It's Draco Malfoy," she said, as she bent down onto one knee to look under the table, into his face.

Silver eyes met hazel, each full of wonder. Hermione was shocked, and blushed furiously. Draco's mouth was slightly open.

He didn't know why he did it, it might have been because he was drunk, but he leant forward and put his lips firmly on hers, before almost immediately recoiling.

"Hey Her-Granger." He tried to cover up that he had almost said her first name. Hermione's mouth was parted slightly, and he looked in fascination at them, seeing the way her now perfect teeth went to bite her bottom lip, yet refrained. Her tongue licked it instead.

"Hi, Draco..." she responded, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Then she was gone, rushing out of the room, slamming the door behind her. It was quite a while before she realised she'd left her bird there, but Draco immediately noticed the chirping noise.

He crawled out from under the table, as the clock struck half eleven. He held out his open palm, and the bird hopped onto it.

"Come on," he said, and left for the Slytherin common room, smiling slightly on his way there.


End file.
